Not Allowed
by Glowing Embers
Summary: Why not lean over & kiss her, caress her till she cannot even form thoughts let alone the word no- He'd tell himself. & His hand moved to cover hers; but Fate was never known for giving salvation. "You're not allowed you know." “…I know”


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YOU left me, sweet, two legacies,--  
  
A legacy of love  
  
A Heavenly Father would content,  
  
Had He the offer of;  
  
You left me boundaries of pain  
  
Capacious as the sea,  
  
Between eternity and time,  
  
Your consciousness and me.  
  
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Capacious as the sea  
You Left Me  
  
by Emily Dickinson  
  
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They'd met like this many times before, it would be just the two of them, side by side, watching the sun set. The first few 'accidental' meetings though, she thought she was alone.she was always alone, that part was nothing new. He would sit behind her, a little to the side and watch along with her, anything really. The moon slowly gliding across the sky. The fall leaves floating to the ground. The endless cascade of snowflakes. Where ever they'd happen to be, what ever happened to be the show that night, evening, or morning he too came to watch when he could get away from everyone long enough.  
  
Then, one day, he finally moved forward and sat directly beside her. Distance was still between them but over time that changed to some degree. Little snatches of contact did happen. A brushing of arms, a strand of hair tucked behind her ear, hips for a second would rest against another.but actual sustaining contact was never done. And this alone almost drove him mad. Every evening, and some times mornings now he would sit for God only knew how long playing it out in his mind: this time he would put his arm around her, this time she would hold his hand, this one time she would turn to him and smile. Just a smile was all he asked for, all he prayed and hoped for.  
  
But she did not, as she never did.  
  
Not even a glance was thrown his way. And it hurt for some reason, this rejection, even though he had never really put forth himself to begin with. And he'd never had to beg for anything, never had to want so badly for something so mundane to happen. Though his cowardice attitude toward her was not helping, he couldn't fully blame her for not advancing, he didn't have the balls to do it either.  
  
'Why not just lean over and kiss her, caress her till she cannot even form thoughts let alone the word no.' He would tell him self one day.  
  
Then the next it would be, 'She'd never want you, a scrawny ferret like your self. Has she forgiven you so quickly for everything you've done to her or is she just ignoring you, hoping you'll go away?' The ending figure was always the same: she was probably tolerating him just enough till he left.  
  
He didn't know what went on in that little red head of hers, didn't care mostly. He only knew that the far away look on her face, the way she held her head and sighed softly sometimes drew him to her. She wasn't.striking, nor could she be labeled classically beautiful. But there was something about her. She had potential to be something more, one day when she was older, but until then the best decided word he could find was: sweet.  
  
She was innocently sweet, yet still tempting all the same, but this wall, barrier between them was droving him mad. He would sometimes berate him self for thinking there was something between them; maybe he had made up this whole mutual attraction in his head, maybe she didn't have the same internal battles as he had and fought each day with whether or not he should say something, anything to her.  
  
Would she get scared if he told her how much he thought about her each day, how much he wanted to control the purity that was harbored inside of her. Like smothering a candle flame, he would imagine.only he wanted to keep it safe, for himself and no one else to share it with. As twisted as that sounded. He didn't want to share her. It was the little flares of anger when Potter or a male friend would put an arm around her or pull her to him that led him thinking down this path, originally.  
  
And maybe, just maybe it was possible he could harness this energy that was inside of her, that at times burned with such ferocity it made even him feel alive, warm again, like fire licking his skin. Passion. That was what he wanted to feel with her, for her. Something was missing in his life, something colossal, yet he'd gone so long with out it, it only felt like dead space inside of him- and this girl just might provide what he was missing, wanting, what he was craving. He could, at this point, move on- forget about her, but he knew he would never feel whole or completed. This girl was the key. And once again sitting beside her, closer than usual, he gathered the courage to move, to set events in motion that would be unstoppable once activated.  
  
His hand moved to cover hers.  
  
But Fate was never known for her giving of salvation.  
  
"You're not allowed, you know."  
  
His hand stopped mid-movement.  
  
"I know." And he did, it was that fact that made him angry. He knew even though he wanted it badly it was never going to happen. She wouldn't let it.  
  
Silence followed.  
  
He stood to leave.  
  
Still staring straight ahead she reached for him, catching the hem of his robes, not daring to reach further and latch on to his hand.  
  
"We're not allowed, remember?" his harsh and spiteful tone bit into her. His childish mask of hateful words and cruel thoughts fell over his face once more. He couldn't help it.  
  
Her fingers jerked free of the thick fabric and he stalked away.  
  
She calmly watched him walk away, blinking once, twice. "..I know Draco, I know."  
  
  
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p.s. Yeah I'm writing again, I finally got my self a shiny new laptop so I have a place I can store my writings. After this is posted I'm going to have a run through of some older works; like the missing chapters from 'The Abyss' and 'The Collector' and we'll see if I can get them posted right quick. 


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